Distractions
by Tea55
Summary: After the apocalypse ends, Dean starts noticing things. Dean/Castiel, oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine, Kripke's.

**Summary: **After the apocalypse ends, Dean starts noticing things.

**Rating:** K

**DISTRACTIONS**

As far as distractions go, apocalypse is among the biggest ones.

After Lucifer's big exit, Dean's mind quickly comes with a list of important things - keep Sam alive, stop Lucifer, try not to get yourself killed. In that particular order.

No one is more surprised than Dean when he actually gets it right this time. When he kills Lucifer.

Long after the ground stops shaking and the smoke clears, Sam and Dean are the only ones left at what will be later known as Lucifer's field, the place where he met his defeat. Angels and demons have all gone or been banished, even Castiel, but Dean still hesitates. He's bloody and his shoulder hurts like hell, but Sam is sitting on the ground next to him, also bloody, with one hell of a bruise on his face, but for the first time after the start of this madness, there's no guilt in his eyes.

Sighing, Dean throws the sword with which he'd killed Lucifer on the ground, wondering what happens now.

******

Life happens.

The kind they've left behind when they've gotten lost in Azazel's schemes. Saving people, hunting things. Family business.

Only, this time, they have help. Of the angelic variety.

Castiel stays. He's one of the few angels who don't fly back to their clouds, and Dean is strangely, almost worryingly, happy about that. And that is when Dean's life gets complicated.

Dean starts noticing things. Castiel-related things. The way his hair literally defies gravity, making Dean's hands itch with the urge to run through it, only to tousle it more.

Then there's that smiling thing. It makes Dean distracted, shifting his focus on Castiel's lips whenever he smiles. No matter where they are or the circumstances. Dean has no clue why, because he's seen Castiel smile, and it never had the same effect as it does now. Maybe it's because he actually does it properly now, it's not that ghost of a smile from before Lucifer, nor is it laced with sadness like it has been during the last year from hell.

And, of course, laughter. It's ridiculous, really, but the sound of laughter coming from Castiel does strange things to Dean's chest. It can't decide whether it wants to shrink or expand. But what Dean actually does in those, still rare, occasions is smile. There's nothing wrong with that, right? It's nice to see and hear Castiel laugh. But that doesn't explain why every time it happens, Sam looks at him with a mixture of amusement, exasperation and worry.

But those are fairly innocent things, nothing to get upset about. Well, they are borderline freaky, but Dean can write them off as some new form of PTSP.

And then 'The Incident' happens.

******

They are on a hunt. An ordinary, garden variety ghost-hunting gig. Winchester equivalent of a boring day at work. A walk in the park after Lucifer. But it gets a rather interesting turn when the ghost flings Dean across the room, who , instead of making a Dean-shaped hole in the wall, ends up colliding with Castiel who suddenly appears out of thin air, sending them sprawling on the ground, Dean landing on top of Castiel.

Now, Dean is fairly sure that Castiel could have prevented their fall, but the look of utter surprise he had managed to see on the angel's face the second before their collision, is the only explanation of why he hadn't.

Dean doesn't actually see stars, but the impact did make him a little disoriented, so it takes him a moment to force his head to move off the warm, hard surface that he only belatedly recognizes as Castiel's chest by its steady rise and fall.

"Cas, I'm so…" Dean has every intention of apologizing. But the thing is, once he moves his head off its comfortable place on Castiel's chest, that gets his face only a centimeter or so from Castiel's. And that has an unusual effect on Dean's already sluggish mind. It makes him forget where they are, that there's a bloodthirsty ghost only a few meters away. Actually, Dean's mind goes blank, and only one thought remains. Scary, insane, going-to-hell kind of thought. But it's still not enough to make him think twice about the logic and potential consequences of the sudden, overwhelming desire to kiss Castiel.

Something of his current insanity must be showing on his face because Castiel frowns, his warm breath ghosting over Dean's face when he whispers "Dean?" and that soft utterance of his name shouldn't be so fucking hot. It shouldn't cause the disappearance of the last shred of Dean's sanity.

As it is, Dean starts to lower his head, and his lips are only a breath away from Castiel's when he hears the sound of Sam's voice, slightly out of breath.

"Dean, are you… _oh_."

The embarrassment in Sam's voice is what finally pierces whatever temporary insanity was holding him captive, making Dean aware how Cas and he must look to Sam – their bodies entwined, Dean's hands splayed on each side of Castiel's head, Castiel's lying loosely on Dean's hips, their faces only inches apart…

"Oh, fuck," Dean mutters, pushing himself off of Castiel.

"Everything okay here?" Sam asks, the smug bastard, and Dean has to use all his willpower to stay calm and not use his fists to wipe away the smirk from his brother's face.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Dean says, patting himself on the back at how calm his voice sounds. But he still can't make himself look at Castiel. Or calm his heartbeat.

The worst thing, though? He can't stop wishing that Sam came a moment later.

******

"Dean, those are all books on demon possession," Sam says, putting away one of the books from the pile in front of Dean, looking at Dean as if he'd grown a second head.

"Yeah, and?" Dean snaps, annoyed. He contemplates putting away the books, but it's too late for that now. He was kind of hoping Sam wouldn't catch him doing the research, but what's done is done. How was he supposed to know that Sam will get back from his trip three hours earlier?

Sam sits down on the bed next to him, frowning. "Why are you reading them?" Sam asks slowly as if he's dealing with a seven year old trying to understand Einstein's Theory of Relativity. "We haven't had any demon sightings after Lucifer."

Dean sighs, rubbing his face with the heel of his hand. He knows he should lie. He's pretty fucking certain of it. But he's too tired to come up with a half decent lie. "It's for me," he says finally, and the wide-eyed look of incredulity on Sam's face is exactly the reaction Dean expected to see.

"_You?_"

"Yeah, me," Dean says, his gaze falling back to the opened book in front of him.

"You think you're possessed?" Sam asks, his voice carefully controlled, but yeah, when said out loud, it does sound ridiculous. "Why? Had something happened to the tattoo?"

"No," Dean mutters, playing with the pages of the book, and even to his ears he sounds like a kid. Confused, scared kid.

"So what makes you think you're possessed?" Sam asks.

Dean inwardly rolls his eyes at his brother's use of Dr. Phil's voice, but he has only himself to blame. He was stupid enough to do the research in their motel room. "I've," he starts, but has no clue how to put into words his apparent crush on Castiel. And, really, how the hell can he even begin explain his mind's fixation with their friendly angel? Not to mention his dreams, which are getting more detailed and more intense with each night? "Something is wrong with me."

"Yeah, Dean, but that's nothing new," Sam offers helpfully, "You're a freak. Have been for a long time."

"Sam, do you want me to kick your ass?" Dean forces through clenched teeth, glaring at his brother who has no decency to even try to look afraid.

"Is this about Castiel?" Sam finally asks, his face growing serious.

Dean freezes. "How? What? Why… I mean, what the hell are you talking about?" Dean asks in a too high of a voice that does nothing to hide his panic and embarrassment.

Sam actually rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on, Dean," Sam says, exasperated. "You've been walking around like a love sick teenager since the end of the war. And you should see yourself when you look at Castiel. You're a small step away from drooling."

"And you're a small step away from getting your ass kicked," Dean growls, narrowing his eyes in warning, but Sam only smiles.

"You're an idiot Dean," Sam says softly. "Only you would think that falling for someone means that you're possessed."

Dean frowns, taking a better look of Sam's face. He looks like he's having fun, no, like he's getting a real kick out of this, but there's no disgust or accusation there. "Are _you_ possessed? You're talking like it's no big deal."

"It's not," Sam says simply, sighing at the look Dean throws in his direction. "Dean, we have made it possible for the Devil to walk this world. We've both died and come back. You've been to hell. In comparison, you falling for Castiel is a minor thing."

"He's an angel, Sam!" Dean exclaims, getting off the bed and starting to pace in front of his still too calm brother. "In a male body."

"But he's an angel in a male body who happens to feel the same," Sam says softly, and Dean's heart forgets to do its thing, and suddenly his chest feels too small for the sheer magnitude of feelings filling it. Hope being the strongest of all.

"What are you talking about?" Dean whispers, freezing on the spot and clenching his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

Sam sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. "He had fought heaven and hell for you, Dean," Sam says. "He also stayed on earth for you. If that isn't love, I don't know what is."

Dean stays silent, not really sure what to say to that. But he knows that Sam is right. He's not possessed, he's only insane. Insane for falling for an angel. Now all he needs is to find out is Sam also right about that other thing. About Castiel returning his feelings.

******

"You wanted to see me?" Castiel asks after he pops into existence in the middle of Dean's motel room. Dean first embarrassing impulse is to turn tail and run. Idiotic, really, since he's the one who'd called the angel here in the first place.

He doesn't run, though. He needs to know. If only to make the damn dreams go away. Also, to get what little sanity he had in the first place. If obsessing over Castiel was bad, obsessing over the idea of Castiel returning the sentiment was a helluva lot worse.

"Why did you stay?" Dean asks bluntly. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," Castiel says calmly, and Dean really wishes he isn't so damn calm when he feels like a kid on his first date.

"Yeah, okay, but why?" Dean insists.

"Why the sudden interest?" Castiel asks instead of answering, and Dean takes a deep, calming breath, knowing that punching his current love interest isn't the way to make him into an actual significant other.

"Sam thinks it's because of me," Dean blurts out, saying goodbye to whatever sanity he had. But if he accepts Castiel's game, they could go on like this the entire night. This is better, like taking off a band aid in one move. It stings like a bitch, but then it's over. "Because you love me."

Castiel blinks, keeping his face carefully blank. And then one moment becomes two, then three, and then at the end of what seems like an eternity – even though it's probably a matter of only few minutes – Dean starts hoping for a hole to open under him, swallowing him.

"Cas, a simple yes or no would be appreciated at this point," Dean manages to say when that hole refuses to appear.

Castiel stays silent, studying him intently, and Dean decides that he's going to kick Sam's ass the moment he returns. Or make him find him some time travelling device so he could go back and stop himself from making an idiot out of himself in front of Castiel.

"And what would you like the answer to be?" Castiel asks, finally, and Dean almost jumps at the sound of his voice. "Yes or no?"

Dean blinks, then does it again. And again. But the expression on Castiel's face stays the same – serious and completely unreadable. And that makes Dean snap.

"You know what? Forget it. Or better yet, fuck off," Dean says, feeling the anger spread like molten lava through his veins. This has turned into a real fiasco, a fiasco that won't get any better if Dean lets his mouth run wild, but he can't make himself care. He's seeing red, only he's not sure at whom he's pissed off more – Sam or Castiel. Or himself for being an idiot. "What's so difficult with answering simply for once? Would it have killed you? Are you re…"

Dean doesn't actually see Castiel move. But in between breaths, he finds himself slammed against the wall, Castiel's body a solid, unmovable weight against his own body, a stark contrast to the softness of Castiel's lips on his own. The kiss itself, though? Not even in the same realm with soft. Dean knows a thing or two about kisses so he's pretty sure that Castiel is making a point now. Of the 'your ass is mine' kind. Dean is strangely okay with it. Actually, when Castiel tightens his hold on the nape of Dean's neck, angling Dean's head so he could deepen the kiss, Dean is more than okay with it.

When Castiel ends the kiss, drawing his head away, Dean blinks, knowing that what has just happened is huge and needs to be analyzed, considered from all angles, it's just that he's more interested in how close Castiel still is, in the feather light touch of Castiel's fingers on his neck, but most of all, Castiel's smiling lips, only an inch or two from his own.

"Was this clear enough of an answer for you?" Castiel asks, and Dean decides to forgive him the smugness. But only this once. "Or do you need more proof?"

"You know me, Cas," Dean says, grinning. "I'm not that big on faith. You're going to have to do better than this."

And Castiel does.


End file.
